Clara Caufield. Photo from Native News Project / University of Montana School of Journalism
A magical dream or delusion?
By Clara Caufield Magic (maj’ik): Any mysterious, seemingly inexplicable, or extraordinary power or influence. After last night, I am compelled to write about it. Some readers might recall that I recently wrote about Bonnie Red Elk, a Native journalist of tall standing and taller conviction, never afraid to put pen to paper in the most unusual way, also encouraging me to do that, following our tribal traditions and beliefs. I wistfully wrote about her passing, expressing hope in a native way that she might still support and care for me, which would most likely occur in dreams. I promised to burn cedar, and have fulfilled that. Cedar is a powerful spiritual plant given by the Creator to carry our thoughts and prayers to the spirits and to him/her/it. In response, they will sometimes take pity upon those of us who are still earth bound. Comforting us. Guess what? I think she heard me and responded in the most delightful manner. I wasn’t even in a peyote meeting which is when this type of phenomena has happened to me before. Many people on this planet will say about this story: You can‘t say for sure: it could have been the result of bad digestion; overactive imagination; coincidence or perhaps you are actively creating your own reality – wishfully hoping for something to occur and subconsciously making that happen. You may be deluded. If that is true, I hope to be deranged more often. And I concur with my daughter Jeri McMakin, also a dreamer and receiver of dreams who says “There is no coincidence.” This is how I dreamed: a delightful shower of soft, yet brilliant and floating lights surrounded and carried me on a celestial trip. I was buoyant, without care and laughed while rolling in the warmth. Though I have been accused of being a “wordsmith” able to describe many things, no adequate words come to me to describe that sensation and dream image. It was extremely comforting and I did not want to wake up.
Bonnie Red Elk. Photo from Louis Montclair / Fort Peck Journal
A message clearly formed in my mind: “Write a story; write a poem; say a nice thing to someone; take a picture and share that with others. When you can’t do that, just smile at someone. Give them emotional food and encouragement. It is the same thing.” To my dismay, the dream began fading as many people happily laughed in the background. See you later, gater,” a voice echoed. The Cheyenne have no word for goodbye –we only say “I will see you again.” We know it to be true. Many people in my life have gone to the next camp and one of them kindly sent that message. Could it have been one of my two sons who are now there? I like to think that. I didn’t want to wake up and fall out of the lights, but was required to. Someone or something told me that was now necessary. Awake, yet still in the throe of wonder, I felt directed to write the message down. It was very clear in my mind. As it is yet. Later, I consulted with my Cheyenne Navasit or Sister-Friend, who is of traditional persuasion. She carries belief and knowledge gained from her parents, Sacred Hat Keepers, Sun Dancers, fasters and Peyote People. I spoke with her before publishing this article. When I ask her about possibility, she reminds me of Cheyenne reality. “What do you think?” I asked. “That came from the other side,” she counseled. I was glad to hear that and I hope the lights and voices might visit me again. (Clara Caufield can be reached @acheyennevoice@gmail.com) Copyright permission Native Sun News
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